


The innermost thoughts of a Spider

by kiierenwaalker



Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Fic for Finn, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 12:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1744778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiierenwaalker/pseuds/kiierenwaalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically whats going through Peters head during a meeting with Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The innermost thoughts of a Spider

Honestly. There is now way to describe it. He’s too close for comfort. Way too close for me to deal with. I don’t think I can have him this close without me making a move, starting something that we would both regret.

He knows what he’s doing. I can tell. That smirk he’s giving me as he starts leaning in closer. I don’t think—I can’t. I can’t think. Not like this. He’s doing it on purpose. No. Stop.

And I ruined it. If there was really anything to ruin. I moved to close. I moved to fast. I pushed my lips against his, but I moved back, flinching at my mistake.

Except he’s not angry. He’s not disappointed. He’s not even shocked.

His smirk seems to have grown. How is that even possible. What is even going on. I can’t. I can’t do this.

I looked up to his face, and I saw a mischievous glint in his icy blue stare. He planned this.

He knew. He’s always known. How could he have known? I was so careful, to not given in, to keep this friendship going. Have I ruined it?

Surely I have. Who would even want to be around me. People are dying because of me. I ruin everything. I can’t. I cannot. No. Please.

And he brought his lips back to mine. Warm, cold, wet, soft,  and rough at the same time. I don’t. I didn’t realise. I can’t.

So I pressed back against him. Threading my fingers through his hair, as I feel his hands grip my shoulders. Surely that would leave a bruise on any other person.

I pulled him up onto my lap as we moved about the couch. I could hear a small gasp for breath. I started laughing.

I was laughing. But so was he. Is it okay? Are we allowed to laugh? I can’t. I don’t. Laugh? Great job Peter. You ruined it.

Oh, he’s talking. He seems okay with it. With this whole situation. Is this even a thing.

His hands moved behind my neck, as I kept mine at his waist.

It continued to feel warm, soft and wet.

I’m okay with that. I can.


End file.
